


He's Not A Bad Boy

by Oakley (Hisokafucker69)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Cinema AU, Fluff and Angst, I'll add tags as they come, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 09:55:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6849637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hisokafucker69/pseuds/Oakley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kenma works the night shift at a cinema in a small area im Tokyo, where everybody knows everybody - except him.<br/>One night, he's asked to clear up a cinema screening for a rerun of 'The Titanic' twenty minutes after the screening, when everyone should have gone home, and he finds the most ugliest crier in all existence, Kuroo Tetsurou.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He's Not A Bad Boy

**Author's Note:**

> *Adele voice*  
> hello, its me  
> So basically this AU is another disgusting mess written by myself  
> Basically, everyone in this town thinks Kuroo is some kind of bad boy (like a lot of this fandom gtg) but Kenma doesn't because he first meets him still crying over the titanic at his cinema, and he's the ugliest crier he's ever seen  
> I hope you enjoy!  
> Ill upload the next chapter asap!  
> (If you want leave kudos or a comment, or bookmark because im in a fUnKy timezone.)

Kenma hated his job -- who wouldn't in his position? Working at a place like a cinema; it wasn’t his first choice of job, however it did have many attributes to a job suitable for someone like himself: working in the shadows, less human contact, free popcorn, not many physical things.

However, there were a lot of negatives: people asking him where the bathroom was or simple questions that make his mind draw a blank, making him look idiotic or centre of attention, (which is 100% the opposite of what Kenma wants), the disgusting mess; honestly for people watching a film they did leave the worse mess he’s ever seen in his life, Kenma knew he was below average height but he never thought he’d be using this to reach underneath chairs to gather stray bits of dusty forgotten popcorn.

Luckily, Kenma always forwarded himself for such jobs, despite the stretching under chairs, and using small acrobatics to reach for each disregarded piece of shit under the folding chairs (which also contained abandoned memories of the film in the form of half sucked sweets, gum, etc.), and brushing away the dirty unseen jobs that the working class provide, it was worthwhile - he had a salary, and he didn’t have to see customers or interact against his own will, usually.

Naturally, some were born charismatic and take the other roles, Yaku was an example, he wasn't the manager but he may as well have been - a natural born leader, and someone who made Kenma honestly feel a little more comfortable with his own height.

He wasn't sure how he could encourage employees, how he could smile, and look and act pleased when Kenma unwillingly spoke with someone - even if it was something as mere as pointing them toward the bathroom he shed a tear like a mother watching their son grow.

At this point, Kenma didn’t even know why he was still employed, the new management was a lot more stable than the year previous (his first year of work)- they tried to force Kenma to converse, be energetic, smile, rather than let him hide in his own comfort blanket and just show his work for the cinema in secret, like he wanted, like he was good at, he never wanted to stick out.

He was close to quitting. Ridiculously close, even though without the job he’d probably have to give up his apartment and live back with his parents, which would be the worst possibility, and make Kenma’s anxiety curdle his skin cold. But the rest of his workers convinced him they needed him. _Him_. It warmed him and thawed his slight cold exterior even at the thought of it a year after it made him want to smile, but his slightly exasperated expression wouldn't let that convey.

#

“Kenma-san!” A slight gust of wind parted Kenma’s lips at the words, that voice, it was like chalk down a black board.

“Please, Lev, I told you, you don’t need to address me any differently-”

An extremely tall lanky teen bent over to reach down a little to Kenma’s height, his eyes like a cat’s as they drifted over to watch Kenma’s unamused face sigh in exacerbation. “But you've been working here way longer than me! Even though I’m gonna become the manager in this place.” Lev brought himself up, his full on height a little intimidating to anyone who didn’t know he was like Bambi when he first tried to walk. ‘What an aspiration.’ Kenma thought to himself bitterly, before trying to gather his thoughts in a reply.

“I… Really don’t care.” Kenma replied, his head dropping from his shoulders resulting in his hair falling to frame his young looking face.

A laugh bellowed through the Lev’s grinning lips, before he threw his hands upon his thighs and bent down to Kenma’s height, whose loose brows and relaxed eyelids painted an image of someone who really didn’t want to be there right now, maybe he would take a break and sit in the toilets with his phone or DS.

“Anyway! Yaku-san told me to tell you to clear screen seven! It was some rom-com with a sad ending, so the mess won’t be that bad.” Something about Lev made Kenma want to smile, he was so over enthusiastic, and looked like he really enjoyed his job, and strived to be the best, even though it was a low-key job, and it didn't have the best pay, and Lev always ended up burning the popcorn, or spilled drinks, him and Kenma were on opposite ends of the spectrum.

Giving a sincere nod, Kenma did a hundred and eighty and headed toward screen seven, a jaded expression creasing a mark into his forehead.

#

The cinema theatre was always an odd place without a film running, it was dark, and the fresh scent of sweet popcorn always brushed against Kenma’s nose, making it crinkle in satisfaction. A sigh cooled down his lips, and his fingers threaded through his golden locks and placed the strands behind his ear. “Where do I even start?” He asked himself, turning on his heel to go into the cupboard, grabbing a brush and enclosing it in his palm.

Steadily, Kenma’s caramel coated irises darted around the screening, but his usual scan for trash was interrupted by what sounded like sniffling. Had some parent left their child here?

Kenma hated kids. But, if he got a pay rise he may be able to start saving for a new games console, so it wasn't all bad.

The volume of wails had began to increase, they couldn't even be classed as sniffles at this point - it was full on cries of agony. Kenma pursed his lips, and let his ears follow the disgusting sound up the aisle of chairs to find a man, sitting there, with the most ugliest crying face he’s ever seen.

The man was lank, and quite thin with a muscular built frame - lanky, in other words. His brows were forced to crunch his eyes to a wrinkled narrow, his mouth was stuffed full of popcorn, and snot was dripping down his nose - nice.

Kenma flinched back, pulling his chin into his neck, forcing at least three chins to make their way in his neck in disgust.

The man looked up, eyes glistening with fresh salty tears, as his cat pupil scanned over Kenma’s disgusted expression. “Mmph, mmhdf.” His words were slurred with corn, and he brought it all together with another sniff.

Kenma’s cat instinct of fight or flee kicked in, all thoughts in his mind encouraged him to follow instinct and leave, be safe from the odd emo cramped in the movie theatre chair.

Finally, the man swallowed, dropping his head, making his untidy hair fall over his face - he looked like he had just got out of bed, in a way it complimented his disgusting crying face.

“Don’t look at me, I’m a mess!” The rooster-head persisted, his head raising up and eyes widening at the sight of the narrowed eyed Kenma.

Usually by this point Kenma would have fled, and a knot began twisting harshly against his stomach as anxiety splattered against his porcelain complexion. He was silent, wanted words embedded in his pursed lips.

“I can see you're scheming type! I’m just the same! I bet someone sent you, you’re here to video me, broadcast, m-my shame!” A sniff tore at the man’s melodramatic words, and Kenma replied with a short shake of his head as he nervously pointed at his worker’s badge.

Seeing such an intimidating looking man in his own shame nearly broke Kenma in confusion, should he laugh? Run? Broadcast this and become a hit sensation? He didn’t feel like running however, he felt like his feet were glued to the black carpet of the movie theatre.

“You're not gonna say anythin’? I’m- I-I’m just g-gonna sit here, in shame…” There it was again, how could someone look so hideous when crying?

Kenma actually laughed, he was actually laughing because of this random man? His lips looked so pleasant and naturally curved up, as small chuckles plucked against his vocal chords, lavashing his laughs in sweetness.

The other man propped his head back up, tears coating his face like sweat. “What are you laughing at? I’m not usually like this! This movie re-really pulled at my heart strings.”

Halting his laughs, Kenma arched a brow, dragging the corner of his lip along with it. “It’s more than fact this film finished over twenty minutes ago, sir.”

The man blinked, his cat like pupils darting and greeted themselves with the solitude of the empty theatre. “Shit!” He stood up, the box of popcorn on his lap spilling everywhere on the floor at his surprise. “Oi, Kenma what time is it?”

He blinked. How did this guy know his name? Despite the tears upon his cheeks from ‘The Titanic’ (which was shown in this screening), the man was still tall, and intimidating, his eyes were naturally narrowed to a squint, like a malicious cat to it’s prey. “How do you know my name?” Neutral expression composed, Kenma tilted his head, hair falling against the side of his cheek. “It says on your name badge, now c’mon, I have places to be!” His voice was paced, deep, like something dipped in treacle.

Kenma was talking to someone. Rather comfortably at that; he still couldn't take him seriously, the tears staining the memory of the quadruple chinned wrinkly Gollum-like countenance smeared on his face.

It was odd, usually at any human interaction Kenma would have fled to at least Mexico by now, this was different.

“It’s around 12:30 am.” It was a late night showing, and this man was here alone - Kenma couldn't believe he thought it was a lost child at first, then again, a crying man twenty minutes after the screening was just as likely.

“Damn,” The man raised his hand and placed it upon his neck, giving it an awkward rub. Catlike eyes still blotchy with tears, he breathed in one last disgusting sniff, making Kenma pulled his chin to his neck again in repulse. “I needed to be back by 12:10, I guess I’m locked out, stupid Jack, that raft could have obviously had, had… H-had room for more than one person…” His voice started out sincere, then faded into an unsure emotional mess.

"Technically, he took that procedure so the raft wouldn't topple and bring Rose into the water too, it would be hard to get up with no leverage unless you have some superpowers or something.” Kenma’s words continued to drone, he sounded completely disinterested. Going from complete silence to that, the man was a little shocked, he then tilted his chin a little, his smirk smeared on his lips like lipstick. Kenma definitely preferred the ugly crying rather than this.

“Oi, it’s not about that, it’s the point of the movie, it involves you in a love story and,” Oh God here it was again; he gave another sniff, Kenma pulled back, his eyes darting around his frame in some sort of analytic manner.

“Titanic is an awful movie, sir.” Kenma replied, eyes narrowed as the man brought his clenched fist a little in front of him. “Don’t you dare. My heart will ALWAYS go on, imagine what would have happened! Okay, it isn’t scientifically accurate, but,” There was another sniff, and his nose rumpled just at the thought of the first notes of the song ‘My Heart Will Go On’.

It was too late for this.

“Calm down, sir, don’t you have a home to go to?” Lips pursed in slight not indicated agitation. ‘ _What is wrong with this guy…’_

“I don't usually get this emotional.” The man thought aloud, unclenching his fist and brushing his dark fringe away from his eye, slightly glistening in the burning light of the theatre. His eyes were very unique, Kenma thought; they were narrow like cat-eyes, and a dark amber, a little like his own, they did make him curious, obviously this man didn’t cry very much, and it was funny this was his first impression.

Kuroo darted his eyes back at the popcorn he spilled before, then furrowed his brows. “I’m a mess.”

“Why were you here alone?” Kenma asked, despite his features painted in lethargy, he was curious, no normal man of his age would be sat watching a rerun of ‘Titanic’ at a local cinema.

“I was with a girl, she left as soon as I started telling her the science behind the titanic, and how it rusted. Apparently that wasn't romantic, and she fucking left.” Kenma twitched, he must have been joking, surely his tears were enough to make anyone leave.

"Are you sure it wasn’t because of your crying?” His words were blunt, and his shoulders dropped making his arms fall limp at his sides.

“What? Nah, she left even before the sad bits, my friend texted me later and said she wanted a bad boy, apparently I didn’t fit that.” A yawn left Kuroo’s lips which then stretched back to a smirk as he placed his hands behind his neck. “Well,” His eyes had begin to clear, and he looked even more terrorising than before, so Kenma took a step back. “I’m gonna see if I can stay in a hotel or somepla-”

“What’s your name?” Kenma asked abruptly, making the man arch a brow and drop his hands from his neck. “You can call me Kuroo,”

“Kuro?” He asked, arching his own brow forming a reflection.

“Not quite, but sure.” Kuroo let out a disgusting chuckle, but his words were still pleasing, even though he looks much older than himself, and had a daunting eye about him, Kenma wasn’t as threatened as normal, actually quite the opposite, Kuroo didn’t seem to want to laugh, or bring attention to him, so it was nice.

Closing his eyes, he gave a wave, and began to jog down the stairs. “Wait.” Kenma mumbled, shuffling his way to the top of the stairs, Kuroo instantly looked up, his grin bearing his teeth.

“Will you be my friend?” He wasn't sure why he said that, he was twenty years old and never in his life had he asked such a childish question, but he didn’t stutter, and Kuroo dropped his grin, giving an unamused stare, which then drifted into him clutching his stomach and bringing out a large snort.

Kenma blinked, supposing that was a no.

“S-sure!” Kuroo’s words broke up with odd chuckles, and he finally managed to pull himself together, wiping his finger down his cheek as a happy tear bleached his skin.

“Oh.” Kenma stepped down the stairs, looking up at Kuroo with his usual folded lips. “Let me finish my shift then. Instead of going to a hotel you can stay at mine.” A confused smile tugged at the corner of his lips, he then brought his eyesight to the door, then back at Kenma. “You sure? You met me like 15 minutes ago… I could be some creepy guy,”

"I doubt it.” Kenma could feel some sort of adrenaline heating through his blood, but remained collected, and gave a small sigh. “You're probably around my age, and you were twenty minutes late for your arrangement home because you were busy crying at the titanic. I have a good intuition, people like you usually scare me, but I’m not afraid of you.”

Kuroo blinked, then placed a hand on his hips his head falling that way as his smirk spread further on his lips, captivating his expression like a wildcat. “Ever heard of stranger danger? I worry about you.”

Kenma scrunched his eyes together, threading his forehead, and dropped his head into a large sigh. “I was trying to be kind.”

He couldn't look up, he felt a large hand upon his head, and fingers carding through his own blond locks. “I’ll wait for you outside then.” His voice was rich, like Kenma’s favourite dark chocolate, even hearing the luscious voice he could taste the chocolate on his tonsils; he salivated at the thought. Heat pressed against his face, but his head remained bowed, despite the fingers giving one last soothing trail across his scalp before retreating.

He remained low, but heard Kuroo’s steps down the stairs and the door closing behind him. Swiftly, he raised his head - it was odd how he could just tell by his voice if he was smirking or not.

#

“Yaku, I’m done.” Kenma looked exhausted, bags pulled down his disinterested glare making the smaller male hit his back in pride. “Well done, Kenma!” He gave a large grin, but Kenma hunched - Yaku really couldn't control his strength, despite his height.

“Is that the end of my shift?”

“What, do you have somewhere to be?” Yaku’s grin grew, and Kenma raised his lip in disgust. “Sort of.”

“Met a special lady? Or is it just video game time?” Yaku’s voice was soft, but interested.

“KENMA-SAN, SPECIAL LADY, TELL ME MORE!” Lev popped his head up over one of the ticket booths, before quickly heading over, resulting in demon eyes from Yaku. “Lev, shut the fuck up.” His teeth were gritted, and Lev bent down to the brunette’s height, placing his hands on his thighs for stability. “Aww! But is Kenma-san-”

"--please don’t call me Kenma-san-”

“-has a girl, I have to know how!” Quickly, Yaku reached out and pushed Lev over, making him roll into the trash; where he belonged.

“I am actually letting this man stay over, he missed his sleeping arrangements so I offered for him to stay at mine.”

Yaku’s brows furrowed, “This isn’t meant to sound offensive, Kenma, but since when did you hang around with people other than work colleagues?”

“I don’t. I met him twenty minutes ago, but I unusually felt comfortable around him.” Kenma shrugged, then felt in his pocket.

“...was it the man who left before?”

“Should be.”

“Do you know who that is?” Slight concern weaved its way through Yaku’s voice, making Kenma raise a brow.

“Kuro.”

"Kuroo.” Yaku corrected, pinching the bridge of his nose in some sort of desperation. “You really shouldn't have let him over, Kenma! He has the worst reputation. The worst, everyone in this area knows him for everything. He’s a really bad influence,”

Kenma nearly laughed, but instead just formed a small smile, making Yaku hurl is head back, his eyes wide.

“Intuition.” He replied, tapping his temple before walking out of the cinema with a little wave.

#

“Yo,” Kuroo brought himself up from the bench outside the cinema, his face neutral, and his cheeks contoured by the shadows of the late night air. “You sure you're okay with this?”

“Yes.” Kenma began to make his way passed the busy lights of the buildings near by, and Kuroo kept close, his hands digging in his pockets for extra warmth. “You're a nice guy,” Kuroo said, nudging him as he walked, his smirk reequipped upon his embouchure. “Thanks.”

“...you don’t talk much, do you?”

"Apart from my work members and occasional customer you're the only person I’ve spoke to for a year.” Kenma looked up at Kuroo, who’s grin and probably ego inflated a little more, his hand moved to his chest, and he closed his eyes in egotism.

"I feel blessed…” His smirk then dropped as he didn’t receive a reply, and he just gave Kenma a quick glance, looking down at his smaller frame, and blond dyed hair. His eyes were the thing that really caught Kuroo’s attention however, they were like honey, glistening in the slight light provided by street lamps and light pollution. “How old are ya’, Kenma?” He asked, breaking the sweet silence between them. Kenma looked up, his face plain. “Twenty.”

“You look younger-”

"I know.”

“I’m only a year older than you then.” Kuroo gave a small grin, and smacked Kenma’s back, who instantly flinched and moved away. ‘ _Note to self: Don’t hit Kenma.’_

“It’s a five minute walk from here.” Kenma shattered the silence again, but kept his eyes on the way in front of him, giving occasional glances to passing cars. “Thanks, by the way.”

He added, resulting from a snort from Kuroo. “What? You're the one letting me stay around your house.”

“No, it’s because I feel comfy around you.” Kuroo looked down at Kenma, who’s eyes remained firmly in his path; Kuroo felt heated, like he was burning, and his heart thumped firmly against his chest. Quickly he turned away, and placed his hand upon his ignited with crimson cheek. _‘Who is this kid?’_

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> waaaaaaa hope you enjoyed!  
> ill update asap!


End file.
